Title: Loss
Author: DragonLady
Spoilers: Pilot
Disclaimer: Monk is the property of USA Network
and Mandeville Films.
Rating: G
Author's note- This story is based off something I wrote a few days after my dog died. I'd had him for fifteen years, we grew up together, and his loss affected me more deeply than anyone before. Anyone who has had a friend like this understands.
I can't think, it hurts, it feels like a knife! If I look down, I'm sure I'll see the handle of it sticking out of my gut. Pieces of my heart melt away, drifting little particles that simply. vanish. The pieces that remain, they're her eyes, her hair, her smile.
They say that when a person dies, his life flashes before his eyes. I know this to be not entirely true. That individual's life flashes, but it flashes through the minds of those left behind. And those memories of that life do not dissipate with death, but strengthen.
Tears run down my face. I'm shaking so hard I feel as though my heart will crash through my chest. Pain returns with a punch, leaving me breathless. This has been happening a lot these days.
All of the sudden, my tears stop, the pain fades, and I simply stare into space. There is a void where another person once existed. I swear I can hear her. Sometimes, when I walk down the hall, I hear her behind me clear as day! But I turn around, and no one is there: and the weight of eternity falls upon me once more.
I'm tired, but I can't sleep. I feel suddenly active, but don't know what to do. I feel the need to find something, but I don't know what it is. I call it "death panic". I find I don't know where to go, I don't know what room to be in. Inevitably, I return to the room where she last lived, the bedroom.
I can still smell her.
Sitting on the bed, I suddenly feel weightless, like I'm being lifted by a kite, off the ground, then suddenly having the kite cut away. But I don't fall, I simply float above the world, not going up or down. And I never get the kite back. I've also lost my appetite, I haven't eaten in a week. I literally feel ill. My head is pounding, and I feel disconnected from the rest of my body. The void is back. I want to replace it with something, but nothing interests me. I sit, staring, and hope something will happen. I forget that I'm waiting for her to return. When I wander aimlessly, I'm searching for her. I still expect her to greet me when I return home, and am crushed anew when she doesn't. Every once in awhile, the panic hits again, along with the need to do something. But I am so overwhelmed that I can only sit and stare, like a deer caught in the headlights.
Occasionally, a memory will suddenly shoot through my mind, and I'll be overcome by sorrow once more. It seems impossible that someone who so loved living could possibly die, but the fact of her death is there. I am especially jolted, because she was the one whom I would go to when I needed comfort. And now my comfort is gone, and I don't know what to do without her.
Every moment of my day was filled with her. I'd wake up next to her in our
bed. We'd go downstairs together and share breakfast. We'd talk about the news, she'd read me the stories she'd written, I'd listen. When we were at work, we'd call each other just to talk. We'd share lunch, and walk, holding hands, past the harbor.
At night, we'd sit together on the couch and watch television. I'd touch her hair, she'd touch my hand. I ball my hands into fists. Now, I can't bear another person's touch. I'm revolted by the feel of someone else's skin against my own.
She was my whole life. But now she's gone, and I don't know what to do anymore.
Author's note- This story is based off something I wrote a few days after my dog died. I'd had him for fifteen years, we grew up together, and his loss affected me more deeply than anyone before. Anyone who has had a friend like this understands.
I can't think, it hurts, it feels like a knife! If I look down, I'm sure I'll see the handle of it sticking out of my gut. Pieces of my heart melt away, drifting little particles that simply. vanish. The pieces that remain, they're her eyes, her hair, her smile.
They say that when a person dies, his life flashes before his eyes. I know this to be not entirely true. That individual's life flashes, but it flashes through the minds of those left behind. And those memories of that life do not dissipate with death, but strengthen.
Tears run down my face. I'm shaking so hard I feel as though my heart will crash through my chest. Pain returns with a punch, leaving me breathless. This has been happening a lot these days.
All of the sudden, my tears stop, the pain fades, and I simply stare into space. There is a void where another person once existed. I swear I can hear her. Sometimes, when I walk down the hall, I hear her behind me clear as day! But I turn around, and no one is there: and the weight of eternity falls upon me once more.
I'm tired, but I can't sleep. I feel suddenly active, but don't know what to do. I feel the need to find something, but I don't know what it is. I call it "death panic". I find I don't know where to go, I don't know what room to be in. Inevitably, I return to the room where she last lived, the bedroom.
I can still smell her.
Sitting on the bed, I suddenly feel weightless, like I'm being lifted by a kite, off the ground, then suddenly having the kite cut away. But I don't fall, I simply float above the world, not going up or down. And I never get the kite back. I've also lost my appetite, I haven't eaten in a week. I literally feel ill. My head is pounding, and I feel disconnected from the rest of my body. The void is back. I want to replace it with something, but nothing interests me. I sit, staring, and hope something will happen. I forget that I'm waiting for her to return. When I wander aimlessly, I'm searching for her. I still expect her to greet me when I return home, and am crushed anew when she doesn't. Every once in awhile, the panic hits again, along with the need to do something. But I am so overwhelmed that I can only sit and stare, like a deer caught in the headlights.
Occasionally, a memory will suddenly shoot through my mind, and I'll be overcome by sorrow once more. It seems impossible that someone who so loved living could possibly die, but the fact of her death is there. I am especially jolted, because she was the one whom I would go to when I needed comfort. And now my comfort is gone, and I don't know what to do without her.
Every moment of my day was filled with her. I'd wake up next to her in our
bed. We'd go downstairs together and share breakfast. We'd talk about the news, she'd read me the stories she'd written, I'd listen. When we were at work, we'd call each other just to talk. We'd share lunch, and walk, holding hands, past the harbor.
At night, we'd sit together on the couch and watch television. I'd touch her hair, she'd touch my hand. I ball my hands into fists. Now, I can't bear another person's touch. I'm revolted by the feel of someone else's skin against my own.
She was my whole life. But now she's gone, and I don't know what to do anymore.